Snow Day
by KoshIII
Summary: Set in naughtybookworm's "Desperados" AU in which House has adopted an abused 8 year old now 9 musical prodigy named David, and is in a relationship with Wilson. The boys have a snow day. Brief mentions of child abuse.


**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, not House, and especially not naughtybookworm's wonderful David. I'm just borrowing the characters and taking them out for a short spin.

"Daddy?" House heard a soft voice intruding into his dreams. "Daddy? Are you awake?"

A small hand shook his shoulder. "Daddy? I need you to wake up."

At this, House shot wide awake. "Wha's wrong, David?" he slurred out blearily.

David took a step back. Looking at House, he began to reconsider waking him up so early. House did not look pleased.

"Um..." David lost track of how he had planned to tell House the news.

"What's going on, David?" House asked, his tone of voice concerned. Then he caught a glimpse of the clock and began working himself into a tizzy. "Five forty-five in the morning? It's five forty-five? It's still _dark_ out and you're waking me up? Something had better the hell be the matter with you!" House lost some of his bluster as soon as he saw David's reaction. David had backed further away, eyes darting around toward the door of House's bedroom, but still looking determined to tell House what it was he knew. Before House could say anything else, he felt Wilson stir next to him.

"Greg? What's the matter?" Wilson flipped the lamp on, causing House to block his eyes with his large hand.

"Jesus Jimmy, it's five forty five in the morning. Turn that thing back off."

Wilson left the light on, his gaze on the quickly disappearing David. He had almost made it to the door at this point, trying to slip out unnoticed. House caught him slinking away, and, leveling his voice to avoid scaring him further, tried to get to the bottom of whatever issue David was having. "What's going on, David? Why'd you wake me up? Are you okay?"

David paused in his escape. Almost inaudibly, he whispered, "You're going to be mad."

House looked at David, the last of his aggravation melting away. "Come here," he said softly, patting the space between him and Wilson. Wilson by now was sitting up in bed, wiping a bit of crust out of his eye. David nervously approached and jumped up onto the bed. House's long arm pulled David into a hug, as he tousled David's unbrushed hair with his other hand.

"We're not going to be mad. But if something's going on, we need to know what it is. You don't have to be afraid, just tell us what's going on." House tried to talk quietly, soothingly. David remained rigid in House's grasp, but looked over at Wilson, who nodded.

"It's just that...there's no...no school today. It's a snow day." David kept staring at House, as if expecting an explosion at any time. House looked at David, baffled.

"A what?"

"A...snow day?" David repeated, wondering if House just hadn't heard him. House stared at David for another couple of seconds, then looked at Wilson, confused. Wilson, who knew exactly what that meant, but not sure how they had arrived at such a state, rolled out of bed and stumbled to the window. Brushing back the curtain with his hand, he looked outside and saw that the yard was indeed completely covered in at least six inches of snow – and it was still coming down.

"It's snowing, Greg," Wilson told House. "And it looks like it already snowed a lot. There's no way buses can run in that mess. They must have closed school."

David nodded, avoiding House's eyes. "I was watching the news. Not only is PYC closed, but all Mercer County _public_ schools are closed, too!" David tried to tone his excitement down for House's sake. "I was watching for half an hour. They said it three times."

"We believe you, honey," Wilson mumbled as he climbed back into bed. He snuggled close to both House and David, moving House's arm so that it not only surrounded David, but snaked underneath Wilson as well.

House was still a little lost. "Why would we be mad, David?"

David looked at House with some remaining trepidation. "You said always to tell you beforehand if there was no school. Now you have to find somebody to watch me today. I'm sorry, daddy."

House almost laughed as Wilson instantly developed his puppy dog eyes. "Oh, baby," started Wilson, "this is not your fault. You don't control the weather. Daddy's not mad, right Greg?"

Wiping the smile off his face, House looked at David. "I'm not mad. Jimmy's right – there's no way on earth this could ever be your fault. It's the damn _school's_ fault for closing. What kind of wussies can't drive in snow? They need to get some – " House shut up instantly as he caught Wilson's glare. Sighing, he said, "Not your fault, David," and clammed back up.

David was quiet for a minute, not wanting to ask his next question. Finally, he couldn't hold back anymore. "So...what are we going to do now?"

House sighed again. "Well, I guess you could come to the hospital with us today and hang out there. I don't see how Lisa can complain – it's not like we have much of a choice."

Wilson, who had become somewhat lost in his own thoughts, spoke up. "No, I'll take today off and stay here with you, hon. We can make a snowman and drink hot cocoa and watch t.v. in our pajamas all day. We're going to have a great time!"

David's eyes lit up. "And can we build a fort? A snow fort?"

"Sure, honey. We'll even stock it with snowballs to throw at daddy when he gets home." Wilson's eyes twinkled as he teased House. House was having none of it.

"Oh, no you don't! You two are not going to play hooky while daddy has to go to work. I'm staying home, too!" he declared, leaning over to the nightstand to pick up the phone. While he dialed, David jumped out of the bed and ran to the window, staring at the magical wonderland that awaited him. House left a brief message on Cuddy's voice mail, then he, too, got out of bed.

"Coming, Jimmy?" he teased, as Wilson rolled over and pulled the comforter over his head.

"It's _still_ only six in the morning, Greg! What's the fun of a snow day if I can't sleep in?"

"You need to make the pancakes. Poor David has to eat breakfast! He needs the calories!" House mock-whined. Wilson ignored him, and wondered if House would buy his fake snores.

House rolled his eyes and called to David, "Come on, kid. Daddy's gonna make a special snow day breakfast."

House went to the kitchen, where he grabbed two large mugs. He then limped to the front door of the house. "Come on," he repeated, walking outside in his bare feet. David tentatively followed him out. "What we need is to fill these mugs with snow – but don't pack it in too tightly." House bent down to a patch of fresh snow and scooped the mug into it, filling the mug and pushing in loose bits of snow with his hand. He handed the other mug to David. David looked at House as if he had lost his mind, but followed the doctor's lead.

"Are we going to eat...snow for breakfast?" he asked.

"Sort of. You'll see." House took both mugs and wandered back inside, closing the door after David had come in. The bottom five inches of his sleep pants were soaking wet, and he made a slight trail of water and snow clumps as he squelched back to the kitchen, but he didn't seem to notice. David took a minute to wring out his pajama pants by the mat, then followed. His feet began to prickle and burn from being in the nice, warm house after being outside in the wet snow. David thought that in hindsight, walking around in the snow barefoot may not have been the best idea – but he was also curious as to what crazy idea House was about to show him. He kept his mouth shut and walked into the kitchen.

In the kitchen, House had found the chocolate syrup and was pouring it on top of the snow-filled mugs. "We're having chocolate covered snow!"

David looked at House dubiously, but accepted his mug anyway and took a small nibble. "Mmmm. Chocolatey."

"Yeah. Don't tell Wilson," House mock-whispered, as he handed David a spoon. They enjoyed their snow-sundaes in easy silence together, House putting large amounts of chocolate syrup onto tiny amounts of snow, and David pushing aside most of the chocolate in favor of trying to get individual snowflakes to melt in his mouth.

"Still not up to a lot of sweets?" House asked, a bit concerned. David had finally gone to get his cavities filled, but even since then had refused too many sugary foods. David shrugged.

"You want anything else for breakfast? You know, something more...real?"

David thought about it, but six o'clock was still too early to be very hungry. He shook his head. House allowed him the refusal, thinking that it was still early. He would try again with a real breakfast in a few hours...maybe once Wilson woke up.

"Okay, in that case, what do you want to do first?"

David was quiet for a minute, then asked, "Do you have a shovel?"

* * *

Two hours later, a much better rested Wilson shuffled out of the bedroom, hair sticking up in odd directions from static electricity. He saw House lying across the entire length of the couch, reading a medical journal. For a second he just stood and stared, taking in the sight of his lover and smiling. Something about House wearing his glasses always got Wilson excited. House exuded sexy nerd appeal when he had them on, and Wilson loved every minute of it. Then he noticed something missing.

"Where's David?" he asked.

House jerked his head toward the door. "Outside."

"Oh." Wilson walked over to the door and cracked it open, not wanting to disturb little David in his play. Looking around, he didn't see David anywhere.

"Greg, I don't see him. Where is he?" Wilson asked, trying not to panic.

"Look near your car," House replied without looking up from his reading.

"What?" Sure enough, when Wilson looked over to his car in the driveway, there was David – shoveling snow from around the side. Wilson stared at David, then back at House.

"What the hell is he doing? You made him _shovel snow_?"

House raised his hands in a gesture of appeasement. "Hey, hey, I didn't 'make' him do anything. He _offered_ to go out there and shovel your car out. He wanted to, Jimmy."

Wilson shot House a very dirty look, shoved his feet into a pair of shoes without even fully pulling them on, and stomped outside with no coat. David had already brushed off the entire car and shoveled a path to the driver's side, and was just starting to work on the space directly surrounding the car. It looked like he had been standing on an old crate to reach the windshield. For a kid his age, he did amazing work.

"David, what are you doing?" he cried.

David stopped his shoveling and looked up at Wilson, not sure why he was angry. Maybe he was doing it wrong. He always tried to shovel all the way to the pavement, so there was no thin layer of ice for anybody to slip on. Sometimes he wasn't quite able to scrape that last little bit of snow away. "I'm sorry. I was just trying to surprise you. I'll stop if you want. Sorry."

"Why are you out here shoveling snow?" asked Wilson, trying to tone down his aggravation. "Did House make you do this?" Wilson wouldn't put it past House to try to use David as a pawn in some sort of romantic gesture centered around shoveling out Wilson's car.

David stared at Wilson, eyes wide. "No. I always used to shovel my mom's car out if it snowed. So she could sleep a little longer."

No doubt she was sleeping off hangovers, Wilson thought. "Well you don't have to do that here. I can shovel perfectly fine myself. So can House, for that matter," he lied, knowing that he himself would never allow House to mess around in the slippery snow with his leg as unstable as it was.

"But his leg –"

"It's fine, David. We don't need you to shovel. Nobody's going anywhere in a car today anyway. Just let Mother Nature take care of it naturally."

Looking thoughtful, David managed to come up with a compromise. "How about I just brush House's car off – no more shoveling – then I'll come inside. If you don't brush the snow off now, it will melt and refreeze, then it will be impossible to get off tomorrow," he told Wilson knowingly.

Wilson considered for a moment, then acquiesced. "Okay, but you come back in right after you brush his car. _No more shoveling_. We don't want you losing any toes to frostbite out here."

David nodded, although he didn't mention that he had been left outside for much longer than two hours in the snow on numerous previous occasions without sustaining any lasting permanent damage. He didn't want to make Wilson feel sad.

Wilson went back into the house, gently pushing the medical journal down from in front of House's face. "Greg, did you think to ask _why_ he wanted to go out and shovel?"

House shrugged, looking up at Wilson. "Didn't think it mattered. Why press the issue if there's free manual labor to be had?"

Wilson sighed. "I think he thinks it's something he has to do to stay here. He told me he always shoveled his mother out after a snowstorm."

Greg put the journal down on the coffee table and sat up. The depths of David's issues seemed endless.

"What did you tell him?" he asked.

"I told him to come inside soon. He insisted on brushing off your car first."

House nodded. "I'll try to talk to him."

"Good. So what did you guys eat for breakfast? Is there any left?"

"Um...in a manner of speaking," House hedged.

"What does _that _mean?" Wilson pushed, not following House at all.

"The answer to what we had for breakfast probably falls under the category of 'It's better you don't know.'"

Wilson rolled his eyes. "Ah. In that case, should I make some pancakes after all?"

"I think that would be good, yeah."

Wilson ambled off to the kitchen just as David was coming back inside the front door. House watched as David hung up his dripping coat, and laid his gloves on the radiator to dry out.

"Hey, come give your old dad a kiss." House sat upright and patted the now free sofa cushion beside him.

David walked warily over. He was confused about Wilson's reaction to the shoveling, and didn't know whether House, too, would be mad. He didn't think so, since House had helped him find the shovel in the first place, but this situation was eluding him. He had tried to do a nice thing and gotten yelled at, and now thought it best to tread lightly.

"Hi, Daddy," David whispered as he kissed House's cheek. He started to wander away, presumably retreating to his room, but House grabbed David at the waist and lifted him onto his own lap.

"Not so fast! Let's get those feet warmed up before a toe breaks off. That would be a toe-cicle. We wouldn't want that!"

David giggled, despite himself. House grabbed David's left foot in both hands, and it really did feel good to David. House's hands were warm and huge, but gentle. David could feel the blood starting to warm in his foot. House rubbed David's foot a little, switched to the right foot, then began cautiously, "So I hear you are quite the shoveler."

David shrugged. House continued, "We appreciate you helping us out with all that. But you know you don't have to, right?"

David didn't answer. Helping them out? He hadn't even finished – Wilson had made him stop! He had basically spent two hours accomplishing nothing, because somebody would _still_ have to go out there and finish digging both cars out. Also, he was pretty sure from Wilson's reaction that whatever he _had_ gotten done, he had done wrong. He didn't meet House's eyes.

"David," House asked softly, "What are you thinking about right now?"

"I didn't finish! I'm useless!" David blurted out. House's eyebrows raised in shock.

"What?" was all House could think of to say.

"I only got halfway done. I didn't even totally shovel out Wilson's car. I didn't even _start_ on your car. I'm worthl-"

"Woah, woah, woah," House cut David off. "Who cares about the cars? We care about _you_. You're worth a lot to me. You're worth a lot to Wilson. You're priceless, not worthless."

House could tell David didn't believe a word of it. He also knew those weren't David's own words coming out of his mouth. His mother must have told him he was worthless often enough that it became ingrained in his inner voice. House sighed. "David, the only reason I let you go out there and shovel was because I thought you _wanted_ to. I thought it would be fun," House said, only now realizing how stupid his own reasoning had been. "It's not fun for you, though, is it? Because it's something you thought you had to do."

David said nothing. House continued. "When you shoveled for your mom, did she ever thank you?"

David shook his head.

"Well then, why did you do it?" House looked at David, not quite sure what the answer would be, only what it wasn't. David looked thoughtful for a moment. Then he tried to answer as best he could.

"I guess I thought that maybe if I did something nice for her – if I made some part of her life easier – then she...she would –" David wasn't able to finish, because his voice had begun to tremble. House took a guess.

"You figured that then maybe _she_ would be nice to _you_. That maybe she would let _your_ life be a little easier?"

David looked up at House and nodded. House ran his hand tentatively through David's hair, and when David offered no resistance, he kept it up, smoothing the hair as he went. "Was she nicer to you after you would shovel?"

David's eyes welled up from the combination of the topic at hand and House's gentle hand in his head. "No. But while I was outside, she never bothered me. She left me alone. That's why I like doing it – it's quiet."

"And you're in control,'' House deduced.

David nodded. "Yeah." Then he fell silent again. House could tell the conversation had hit a dead end.

"Wilson's making pancakes. Think you're going to be hungry for some?"

David shrugged.

"Well, how about you go in there and see if he needs any help? I can't think of a better place to get all warmed up than in the kitchen."

David wiped a hand across his eyes, then hopped off of House and went to visit Wilson. Wilson would hear of no such thing as "helping" him, but he did make David sit down at the table with a huge mug of hot cocoa. David watched as Wilson dropped spoonfuls of gooey batter onto the griddle. David's small hands wrapped around the mug of cocoa and he thought there was no place in the world he would rather be than right where he was at this moment. In the end, he did end up eating two huge pancakes, enjoying a leisurely breakfast with his two dads.

* * *

David had been in his room reading for a few hours, and House decided that it would be a shame to let him waste a snow day without actually playing in the snow. Besides, Wilson was at his computer, answering his work e-mail, and House was bored. He called out to David. "David? Come out here!"

David wandered out of his bedroom. "What is is, Daddy?"

"You have a choice," House began sternly. David was a little nervous. "You can help me build a fort, or you can help me build a snowman."

David smiled at House's way of expressing himself. What House was trying to say was that he wanted to spent time with him, to help him be a kid. But House could never just come out and say that, so he phrased it as an order. Even though David had mentioned building a fort earlier that morning, he realized now that he had never built a snowman either. With a fort, you needed other people to play with – teams, or at least one other kid. Although David had begun to make friends at PYC, none of his friends lived within walking distance, and the roads in their subdivision had not been plowed yet. There was going to be no way to play with other kids. He made the logical decision.

"Let's build a snowman," he told House. House nodded and they both found their coats and gloves. It had finally stopped snowing, but nothing had been plowed, so the snow was pristine, new. As they walked outside, House stopped, looking for the perfect place to build.

"How about over there, on the curb?" he asked. "That way, all the cars driving by will see him."

"Good idea," replied David. They set about the task of rolling up a huge snowball. House knew how to build a snowman because his father, ironically, had built one with him once. The idea was to make three snowballs – a huge one for the base, a medium one for the torso, and a small one for the head. As House and David rolled and rolled, House thought that the universe was somewhat cruel for letting him have both good and bad memories of his own father. If he could only remember the abuse, it would be easy to just hate the man, and not have any confusing feelings about the good times. But that wasn't how things worked, and as House built a snowman with his own son, he wondered if David, too, had some good memories of his mother. He would have to start exploring that possibility with David, but carefully. It would hurt, he knew that much. He wasn't about to start today.

The two finally finished the third snowball, and House hoisted it up and balanced it on top of the other two. They admired their work for a minute. Then House started limping toward the house.

"Where are you going, Daddy?" David asked, running after him.

"He needs a nose! And eyes. And a hat," House explained. The two went straight to the kitchen without taking off their boots, getting the floors wet. Wilson would be miffed, but House would make it up to him later that night. House found a bag of carrots in the refrigerator, and they selected a good "nose" carrot while each munching on one of their own. They found some raisins for the eyes and mouth, then House grabbed Wilson's favorite knit cap on the way out the door. The two assembled the snowman's face and smiled at each other.

"Let's go watch t.v.," House said.

They went inside and settled down together on the couch, relaxing after a hard day's non-work.

* * *

That night Greg lay in bed with Jimmy, reflecting on the day. After the morning, David had finally relaxed and spent the day doing all of the things kids were supposed to do on a snow day. "You'll have to take a look at our snowman," House said. "We named him Jedediah."

"I'll see him tomorrow when I leave for work, I guess," said Jimmy.

"Next time, you should help us."

Wilson raised his eyebrows. "I would have helped you this time if I had known you wanted me to. I figured this was a father-son bonding thing for you."

House shrugged. In a way, Wilson was right. House valued the time he had spent with David today, and he knew that the two of them had created a new memory together; a good memory to block out some of their individual bad ones. "Yeah, it was kind of nice that it was just us. Maybe you could help me with something else right now," he said suggestively, waggling his eyebrows. Wilson laughed, and the two began to fool around.

As they were starting to make out heavily, Wilson suddenly stopped and looked at House. "Greg?"

"Yeah, Jimmy?"

"Have you seen my knit cap? I couldn't find it anywhere tonight."

House just grinned and kissed Wilson again.


End file.
